Fatal Identity
“Have a seat.” She directed Josh to the sofa while she tossed her coat over the back of it. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
Sam dashed upstairs to their bedroom, anxious to see what was wrong with Nick, who’d been fine earlier. She found him in bed, curled into the fetal position, and was instantly concerned. Leaning over the bed, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, which was on fire. “Babe.”
“Mmm.”
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t know. Was fine and then I wasn’t.”
“You’re burning up. Did you take something?”
“Couldn’t. Stomach.”
“I’m calling Harry.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine, and I’m calling Harry.”
He mumbled something that sounded like “don’t bother him,” but to hell with that. She was bothering him. Withdrawing her cell phone from her pocket, she found the number for one of their closest friends, who happened to be a doctor, and made the call.
“Madame Vice President,” Harry said. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“Nick is sick. Can you come over?”
“Sick with what?”
“I don’t know. He said it came on out of nowhere, and now he’s burning up and says his stomach hurts too bad to take anything.”
“Sounds like the flu. Keep your distance.”
“Way too late for that warning.” Sam winced when she thought of the sex they’d had last night and again this morning. Not getting too close to her husband was usually the last thing she wanted to do.
“Figures with you two,” Harry said with a huff of laughter. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Can you clear me through security?”
“Yeah, I’ll let them know.”
“Try not to worry. He’s an ox. He’ll be fine.”
Sam usually took Harry’s assurances to heart, but she was worried. She’d never seen Nick this way and had no idea what to do to make him feel better. She hated feeling powerless. Then she remembered Josh was downstairs waiting for her to figure out what to do about his suspicions.
So much for a nice, peaceful few days “off.”
Sam ran her fingers through Nick’s hair, which was sweaty from the fever. “Babe, I have to go downstairs and take care of something. I’ll be right back up, okay?”
He had gone back to sleep and didn’t respond.
Sam bent over to kiss his cheek, trying not to notice that he already felt hotter than he had a few minutes ago. She ran back downstairs to where Josh was waiting right where she’d left him. His leg bounced as he bit his nails.
“Sorry about that.”
“No problem.”
Their assistant, Shelby Faircloth, came into the room from the kitchen, carrying a cup of tea and holding her iPad under her arm.
“Hey, Sam, what’re you doing home? And why is Nick here?”
“He’s sick, and I’m off for four days,” she said with a meaningful glance.
“Ahh, gotcha.” Shelby knew Sam was due to hear the results of the IAB hearing today.
“Could I borrow your iPad for a minute?” Sam asked. “Oh, and this is Josh. I’m helping him out with something. Josh, Shelby, our assistant.”
“Nice to meet you, Josh.” Shelby punched in her code and handed the iPad to Sam. “What’s going on?”
Without telling Shelby about Josh’s connection to Director Hamilton, Sam told her about the photo Josh had found on the Internet.
“Oh my,” Shelby said, dropping into a chair.
Sam gave the iPad to Josh. “Show me the site where you found the photo.”
He did some typing and poking at the screen until he landed on the site. “Here.”
Sam took it from him and scanned the text that accompanied the photo. A newborn male by the name of Taylor Rollings had gone missing from a maternity ward in Franklin, Tennessee, located twenty miles outside of Nashville in Williamson County. According to the article, the baby’s kidnapping had been the lead story for weeks in the Williamson Herald and had been picked up by papers and TV news channels around the state.
His parents—Chauncey, a farmer, and Micki, a homemaker—were now in their sixties but had never given up hope of finding their missing son.
“He was taken right out of his bassinet while I was sleeping,” Micki said in the article, “and we’ve never seen him again.” The reporter noted that Micki still weeps when she speaks of the son who disappeared on a cold winter night three decades ago. “I’ll never stop looking for him. As long as I have a breath left in me, I’ll look for him.”
Touched by Micki’s sorrow, Sam skimmed the rest of the article, planning to read everything she could find on the case later. “If you really think you’re the missing son of this family, we could reach out to local law enforcement in Williamson County.”
“What would happen then?”
“They’d probably request DNA and run it against Mr. Rollings to see if it’s a match. That might be a good place to start.”
“But what if it doesn’t match? They’ve been through so much. I’d hate to get their hopes up.”
“That’s a very real concern and one you’ll need to weigh carefully if you’re determined to go through with this.”
“What would you do?”
Sam tried to put herself in his place. “I’d want to know, but that’s my nature. I always want to know everything. I guess that’s why I’m good at my job. I’m not satisfied until I know the truth.”
“I don’t know what to do. You saw what they said about Taylor’s mom, how she still cries when she talks about him thirty years later. What it if turns out not to be true, and I get their hopes up?”
“What if it turns out to be true? What if you’re their missing son? Think about the peace and comfort you could bring them.”
He dropped his head into his hands and sighed.
“May I ask a question?” Shelby said.
Josh raised his head to nod.
“What’s your gut telling you? I’m a big believer in trusting my gut.”
“Me too,” Sam said.
“There’s something to this,” Josh said. “I know there is. I don’t know if I’m this missing kid, Taylor, or not, but when I saw the picture? I felt like I’d been struck by lightning.”
“You should listen to that feeling,” Shelby said.
“I agree,” Sam said. “Maybe there’s a way we can test the DNA without getting the parents involved until we know there’s a match.” She flipped open her phone and scrolled through her contacts to find Dr. Lindsey McNamara’s number.
“Hey, Sam,” Lindsey said. “Heard you were off for a few days.”
“Is that how it’s being played?”
“Well, actually I heard you were suspended for punching Ramsey.”
“I still say he had it coming.”
“You won’t hear any argument from me. So what’s up?”
“I need an off-the-books favor. I have a friend who needs a DNA test done. Do you think you could come by my house and take care of that for him?”
“Um, sure. I’m leaving for lunch shortly. Could I do it then?”
“That’d be perfect. And if you could keep this between us, I’d appreciate it.”
“Of course. No problem.”
“I’ll clear you through security.”
“See you soon.”
“Hey, Brant,” Sam said when she ended the call with Lindsey. “Would you please let them know outside that Drs. Harry Flynn and Lindsey McNamara will be coming over shortly?”
“Sure, thing, Mrs. Cappuano. No problem.”
“Thanks.”
“Who was that you called?” Josh asked.
“The District’s Chief Medical Examiner, Dr. Lindsey McNamara. She’s a friend and a colleague. I trust her to be discreet.”
“I thought medical examiners worked on dead people.”
“Usually they do, but she’s also a medical doctor and handles DNA testing for us.” She glanced at the stairs. “I need to check on my husband. He’s not feeling well. I’ll be right back down.”
Sam went upstairs to the bedroom, where Nick was exactly where she’d left him. She placed her head on his face and was stunned by how hot he felt. Running back downstairs, she called Harry again and got his voicemail. “Harry, it’s Sam again. He’s scary hot. I’m worried. Let me know if you think I should take him to the ER.”
Sam’s phone rang, and she pounced on it, hoping it was Harry. “Mrs. Cappuano, this is Mrs. Perry at Eliot-Hine. The school nurse asked me to call to let you know Scotty’s not feeling well. He has a fever of one hundred point two. Is it okay if we send him home with his detail?”
Sam’s heart sank at the news that Scotty was sick too. While she’d rather pick him up herself, the agents could get him home faster. “Yes, please. Send him home.”
CHAPTER THREE
SCOTTY NARROWLY MISSED throwing up on Sam when she met him on the sidewalk in front of the house. Fortunately, she saw what was happening and jumped out of the way in time for him to puke on the street rather than on her. She patted his back and took tissues from Darcy, one of his agents, to wipe his mouth when he was done.
“Sorry,” he muttered. His face was so pale he barely resembled her robustly healthy son.
“Don’t be sorry. You can’t help it, buddy. You okay for now?”
“I think so.”
Sam wrapped her arm around him to lead him inside. “How long have you felt lousy?”
“About an hour. I was fine and then my head was spinning and my ears were buzzing. Then my stomach started hurting, and I felt really hot.”
“Whatever it is, your dad has it too, and Harry’s on his way.”
Scotty closed his eyes and leaned his head against her. “Okay.”
“Oh my goodness,” Shelby said when Sam brought him inside.
“You need to get out of here while the getting is still good,” Sam said. “Whatever they’ve got is the last thing you need.”
“I can’t leave you to deal with this by yourself.”
“Yes, you can. Go, Tinker Bell. That’s an order.”
“If you’re sure,” Shelby said tearfully. Everything made her cry these days.
“I’m very sure this is no place for a pregnant woman.”
“All right, I’m going. I’ll check in after a while.”
In a low voice only Shelby could hear, Sam added, “Please don’t say anything to anyone, even Avery, about what Josh told you.” Sam wanted to say especially Avery, but she showed some restraint. The last thing she needed was Shelby’s FBI agent fiancé catching wind of possible accusations against his boss. Shelby hadn’t put Hamilton plus Hamilton together to get Troy Hamilton, but Avery was apt to.
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Um, should I go too?” Josh asked, eyeing Scotty warily.
“No, you stay. I’ll be back down as soon as I can.” With her arm still around Scotty’s shoulders, she guided him to the stairs. “Come on, pal. You gotta help me out here.”
“Sorry.” He climbed the stairs in slow steps. By the time they reached the top, he’d broken into a sweat.
Sam wrangled him into his room, helped him out of his coat and sweater. “Do you want to do the jeans?”
“You can,” he said in the smallest voice she’d ever heard from him.
That her thirteen-year-old wanted help with his pants said a lot about how sick he really was. A pang of fear struck her heart. Where the hell was Harry?
She got Scotty out of the jeans and into a pair of flannel pajama pants that had the Batman logo all over them. He was asleep before she finished dressing him.
Sam pulled the comforter up and over him, tucking him in. She’d no sooner gotten him settled when she heard retching noises from her own room. She ran for the hallway.
“Is he okay?” Darcy asked from her post outside Scotty’s door.
“I don’t know. Doc is on his way.”
Sam went in to help Nick, who’d fortunately made it to the bathroom. Wetting a washcloth, she bathed his face and cradled his head against her chest between bouts of vomiting.
“Scotty has it too.”
He moaned. “Haven’t felt this bad ever.”
“I’m scared for you guys.”
He wrapped an arm around her, thinking of her first as he always did, even when he felt like hell. “Don’t be. Just the flu or something.”
It was the “or something” that scared the crap out of her.
“What happened at the hearing?” he asked.
“Suspended for four days, but don’t worry about that now. It’s no biggie.”
“Yes, it is. You’re not upset?”
“Nah. This too shall pass. I’m not sorry I slugged him. He had it coming.”
“He certainly did.”
“You ready to go back to bed?”
“So ready.”
It took both of them to get him up off the bathroom floor and back into bed. Sam tucked him in and sat next to him, stroking his hair and thinking about what to do with Josh.
With Nick asleep again, she crept out of the room and placed a call to Freddie.
“Hey, did you talk to Gonzo?” he asked.
“Jesus, I totally forgot. You won’t believe what’s been going on since I left HQ earlier.” She brought him up to speed on the situation with Josh Hamilton.
“Holy cow,” he said softly. “Director Hamilton’s son is accusing him of being a kidnapper?”
“We don’t know anything yet, other than Josh Hamilton closely resembles the age-progression photo the family released to mark the thirtieth anniversary of the kidnapping, and his thirtieth birthday is coming up. That’s all we know. Lindsey is coming to take a swab, and I’ll ask the lab to rush it. I’m going to reach out to the Williamson County people to let them know we might have a lead for them. Once we have the DNA, we’ll send it to Williamson County to see if it’s a match to the missing baby’s parents.”
“What if it is?”
“One thing at a time.”
“What can I do?”
“It’s kind of a big thing, but I need someone on Josh until we know what we’re dealing with. I’m sure you have plans this weekend—”
“Actually, Elin is going wedding dress shopping with her friends for the weekend, so I’m on my own.”
“How do you feel about hunkering down in a hotel with him until we know more?”
“I’d much rather hunker down in a hotel with Elin, but since that’s not happening this weekend, I can do it.”
“Are you sure? I’m technically not allowed to ask you to do anything, and I’m not sure how the OT will work. I’ll clean it up later with Malone.”
“Don’t sweat it. It all comes out in the wash.”
“In case I forget to tell you, you’re the best.”
“Yeah, yeah, so you say until you get mad with me and I’m not the best anymore.”
“When was the last time I was mad with you?”
“Um, when I tuned up Elliott?” he asked of the man who’d assaulted his fiancée.
“That was a very specific instance of you doing something stupid.”
“Sort of like you punching Ramsey?”
“Just like,” she said with a laugh. “Touché.”
“Where’s Josh now?”
“My living room.”
“Seriously? You brought him home with you?”
“Where else was I supposed to take him? HQ is off limits to me at the moment, and I wanted him somewhere that no one could get to him. This place is like Fort Knox these days, so where better?”
“I’ll come get him.”
“Enter at your own risk. Nick and Scotty are down hard with something that could be the flu but more closely resembles the bubonic plague.”
“Ah, damn, that’s too bad.”
“Puts a damper on my plans for a restful break,” she said as she looked in on Scotty and then Nick. Both were sleeping peacefully—for the moment.
The doorbell rang, and Sam headed for the stairs, praying it was Harry. “I gotta go. I’ll see you when you get here.”
“I’ll be there within the hour.”
“Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
It was a huge problem and an even bigger imposition, but he wouldn’t say so, and that made him the best partner she’d ever had. He did whatever she asked of him, no matter how outrageous the request.
She reached the living room as Brant ushered Dr. Harry Flynn into the house. “Thank God you’re here. My boys are sick as dogs.”
The handsome, dark-haired doctor kissed her cheek. “Boys plural?”
“Scotty came home with the same thing Nick has. They’re both scary sick.”
“Dr. Harry’s on the job. Lead the way.”
“Be right back,” Sam said to Josh as she took Harry upstairs, first to Scotty, who hadn’t budged since she tucked him in.
Harry took his temperature with a thingie he swiped over the boy’s forehead. “One-oh-three. That’s one heck of a fever. Did he mention any symptoms other than the vomiting?”
“He could barely hold himself up, let alone talk.”
“And he was fine this morning?”
“They both were—and then they weren’t.”
“It’s going around. We’ve seen it in the office.”
Sam felt slightly better to hear her guys hadn’t been taken down by something random.
“It’s usually a miserable day or two before they start to rebound.” He finished examining Scotty. “Let me take a quick look at Nick.”
“Right this way.”
Nick woke up while Harry was taking his temperature. “What’re you doing in my bedroom?”
“I came to seduce your wife since you’re not capable at the moment.”
Nick groaned and attempted a smile. “Hands off. She’s all mine.”
“One-oh-two,” Harry said, reading from the LCD. “How did it come on and what’re your symptoms?”
“I was in a meeting and my head started to buzz and my stomach started to hurt and within five minutes, I felt like I was going to pass out. Fortunately, Melinda saw it happen and was all over it. She and Brant got me out of there before I could puke in the White House.”
“Did she have her hands on you?” Sam asked of the blonde bombshell agent she called Secret Service Barbie.
“Relax. I didn’t feel a thing other than the need to puke.”
“I love how she’s jealous even when you’re sick as hell,” Harry said with a laugh.
“That’s my girl,” Nick said, his eyes closing. “True blue.” His hand found hers, and he linked their fingers.
No matter what the circumstances, he always knew how to handle her, and Sam didn’t mind being handled as long as he was the one doing it.
“I don’t think either of them needs more than rest and fluids. Unfortunately, it’s got to run its course. If they get any worse, don’t hesitate to call 911 and get them to the hospital.”
“That’s it? That’s all we can do?”
“For now. I’ll be checking in with you, and we’ll keep tabs on how they’re doing. Try not to worry. I know it’s hard to see them so sick, but you should see a big improvement by tomorrow. The most important thing is keeping them hydrated. Push the fluids.”
“All right. If you’re sure.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’m a phone call away if you need me. I promise they’re going to be fine.”
For the first time since she’d seen Nick looking like death warmed over, Sam relaxed ever so slightly. She wouldn’t completely relax, however, until they were both back to normal.
After she and Harry checked once more on their sleeping patients, she walked him downstairs and gave him a hug at the door. “Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime. Don’t hesitate to call me if they get any worse, okay?”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
He passed Lindsey McNamara on the ramp, and they exchanged a few words before Brant admitted Lindsey.
“Is it safe to come in?” Lindsey asked.
“Enter at your own risk,” Sam said. “We’re down hard with the flu.”
“Yikes.”
“At least my suspension is well-timed. I’m needed here for the next few days.”
“Silver lining,” Lindsey said with a smile. She glanced at Josh, who sat on the sofa, his leg still bouncing nervously. “Are you going to tell me what this is about?”
“I can’t. Not yet anyway. But suffice to say it’s a matter of paternity, and if it turns out to be something, it’s gonna be huge.”
“Say no more.”
Sam introduced her to Josh, and Lindsey explained the process of obtaining a cheek swab to test his DNA.
“How long will it take to get results?” he asked.
“I’ll put a rush on it, but it could be four or five days.”
“How will you know if someone is a match to my DNA?”
Lindsey glanced at Sam before she replied. “The basic DNA fingerprint or profile that we use for law enforcement or human identity purposes is called the nuclear or autosomal STR profile. STR means short tandem repeat, which describes repeating segments of DNA code at particular locations on the human genome.”
Josh’s eyes glazed over as Lindsey explained the technicalities.
“We’ll be looking for a match to your biological father,” she said when she seemed to realize she’d lost him. “The Y chromosome is passed down from father to son. The Y-STR profile for a father and a son should exactly match, except in rare cases of mutation. So this wouldn’t work for identifying a daughter, because a girl wouldn’t have the Y chromosome. The lab will rely upon a combination of information from autosomal STRs and the Y-STRs to make a determination of father/son. You see?”
Judging by his baffled expression, he didn’t see. He didn’t see at all. But he said, “I think so. Thank you for explaining.”
“No problem.”
“Thanks so much for coming, Lindsey.” Sam walked her to the door. “Let me know the second you have anything.”
“You know I will. Even with a rush it’ll be a few days.” Lindsey glanced at Brant guarding the door and lowered her voice. “I don’t know what you’re up to here, Sam, but you need to be careful. I heard Forrester is seriously considering assault charges.”
“So I’ve been told. And don’t worry. I’m being careful. This isn’t an official MPD case. He asked me for a favor. That’s all it is.”
“You’ve involved me, which involves the department.”
“No one knows that but you and me.”
“Be careful.”
“I hear you.”
“I’ll get back to you as soon as I have anything.”
“Thanks again, Lindsey.”
Sam returned to the sofa and sat next to Josh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. I’m going to reach out to law enforcement in Williamson County as a professional courtesy. I’ll tell them what I know so far and that we’ve taken DNA. I’ll strongly suggest they refrain from contacting the family until we know for sure there’s a match. That way if you’re not a match, we haven’t raised their hopes for no reason.”
“What do I do in the meantime?”
“We’re going to put you in a hotel with police protection until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“If I didn’t think it was, I’d never ask you to do it.” Sam chose her words wisely. “If this turns out to be true, you’re sitting on a powder keg because of who raised you. If he was complicit in this, it’ll be the biggest BFD in the history of BFDs. You got me?”
“Yeah.” Arms on knees, he dropped his head and sighed. When he looked up at her, she saw his anguish. “You don’t really think he’d harm me or anything, do you?”
“If you’d asked me this morning if Director Hamilton had possibly raised a child kidnapped from another family, I would’ve said no way. And I remain ninety-nine percent skeptical that’ll turn out to be true. But if the one percent pans out...I have no idea what’ll happen, and I want to ensure your safety.”
He ran his fingers through his hair repeatedly.
“The choice is definitely yours, Josh. If you don’t want to be under police protection, you don’t have to be. But if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t take any chances, especially since it’s only a matter of time before that photo goes viral.”
“You really think that’ll happen?”
“People are always interested in missing kids.”
“I wish I hadn’t seen it.”
Sam leaned in to put her hand on his arm. “If it turns out to be true, will you still feel that way?”
“I don’t know how to feel about any of this. Before I saw that picture, it never occurred to me that something like this was even possible. Now... Well, now I’m wondering if my whole life has been a lie. Did they just pretend to care about me when they were lying to me the whole time?”
“You’ll know soon enough, and until then, I recommend you let us keep you safe.”
“You and who else?”
“My partner, Detective Freddie Cruz. I trust him implicitly. You’ll be in very good hands with him, and as soon as we have the DNA results, we’ll get you some answers.”